


Yearning

by ShadowInEden (EffingEden)



Series: In Her Shadow [1]
Category: Anita Blake: Vampire Hunter - Laurell K. Hamilton
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-28
Updated: 2010-11-28
Packaged: 2017-10-13 10:34:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/136341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EffingEden/pseuds/ShadowInEden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Quill is being spied on</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yearning

I had been brought to the Circus one night, because there was no one to mind me at home and I was too young to be left alone. I didn’t complain – there isn’t many in the belly of the Circus during open hours, and it wouldn’t have made a difference even if I had.

Once I had grown bored of my homework I rose and stretched, thinking about going to the kitchen – when I saw a girl. She was young. Very young. She was dressed like an expensive china doll, her hair in ringlets and lips painted a bright red. She looked very spooky. I wondered how long she had been watching me – then she frowned.

“Come here,” she whispered.

I couldn’t have heard her, I was too far away, but I did. And I wanted to go to her. I felt her plucking at my mind, trying to find a handhold. She was a vampire.

My breath caught in fear – none of Jean-Claude’s vampires had ever tried to catch my mind before. I could feel her squirming against my mind, wanting – such a wanting and a hunger… malicious and cruel. I felt sick, almost gagged, and tore my gaze from hers. The feeling of her fell away, and I made a little sound of relief, staggering a step back.

“Come here,” she said again, her child-like voice echoing across the open space. “I want to play.” ‘Play’ shouldn’t make fear lick frosty trails down my back. I shook my head, backing up another step. “I want to play with you.” She started to sound angry. I felt her scrabbling again for a grip on my mind, even though I was desperately not looking at her.

I don’t know what would have happened if two other vampires had not come through the entrance hall at that moment.

The Wicked Truth didn’t speak to me often, and I wasn’t interested in them – they were infatuated with Anita, like everyone was. I hated to be looked at like I was her.

They sauntered, with swords on their hips and an air of anticipation about them. That changed in an instant as they took in the drama. They didn’t hesitate, but put themselves between the tiny vampire and me. “Valentina,” Wicked said, his tone hard, “What games are you playing with the Executioner’s son?”

She pouted petulantly, and said, “I just want to play a little… its so boring that Jean-Claude doesn’t let me play with anyone…”

Truth shook his head, and said, “Those are his rules, he is Master here. You must abide by them or be sent back to Paris – if not worse.”

The girl – Valentina – was silent, then was gone. The vampire brothers didn’t relax of a moment. Then Truth turned to me. “Valentina is restless tonight. Perhaps you should stay with us, until your mother comes.”

I nodded, and said, “Yeah, I guess.”

Wicked was looking at his sibling with frustration. Truth turned to follow my gaze and his eyebrow hitched in response. “We can hardly leave him here. Jean-Claude would blame us as much as Valentina if he got bit.”

Wicked sighed, and looked away, obviously not pleased but not arguing. I packed my books into my bag and walked with them, out of the massive receiving hall and through the maze of corridors. We came out in another wide space, but the ceiling was not set so high. The space was lit by gas lamps, giving it a strange haze.

There was the sound of metal on leather – the swords being drawn free of their sheaths. I watched the two walk out to the centre of the room. Wicked called to me, “Stay by the wall, we may chip the blades as we practice.” I blinked, then realised he was warning me about shrapnel.

I retreated back to the wall, a little way from the door, and leant back, watching.

They moved fast – so fast I couldn’t see their moves some of the time. There wasn’t much noise – the soft whistle of their blades slicing air, the whisper of cloth on cloth. Not as much clashing as I thought there would be.

It was hypnotising, seeing two fighters so well matched, flowing together in an intricate dance. It was breath taking.

I had never wanted to be undead so much in my life.


End file.
